Intermission One: Rise Of The Semiconductors Broken Doorhandle

In a dream, you see yourself walking down the road and take a path you had never realized even existed. You wake up, dress according to the weather and do as you did in the dream. The sun is barely rising, you feel nervous and apprehensive as you see the path there, just as in your dream, and you fail to remember recognizing it ever before. You follow it, almost not of your own volition, your legs striding as if you where not in control, yet you are, at least you think so. The daylight becomes brighter with an unnatural pace, as if time was somehow passing faster around you. It is almost noon now, or so the sun would indicate, you do not remember any time passing at all, as if your mind was frozen outside of reality. A wrinkled old man dressed in a grey tunic sits by the side of the path, which is now surrounded by birch trees. The words „THE LARCH“ suddenly flash through your head, drowning out all other thoughts, but before you can utter them and thus start a conversation, the elder speaks: „I know why you are here. I know what you are searching for, even though you may not know yourself. I can lead you to it. You only need to speak the words. Speak wrong an vanish, forgotten, drowned by your own ignorance, unworthy of even the void, your journey over, useless, senseless, irrelevant. Do not think too long lest you be unable to speak at all, your resolve falters. I ask you now: Why are you here?“

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